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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28222119">Calvin Anagonye-Shellstrop (and Hobbes)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/vifetoile/pseuds/vifetoile'>vifetoile</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Yuletide Extravaganza [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Calvin &amp; Hobbes, The Good Place</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Gen, Kid Fic, One Shot, Slice of Life</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 15:13:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,031</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28222119</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/vifetoile/pseuds/vifetoile</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Somewhere in the vast loops of Jeremy Bearimy, there’s a timeline where Eleanor and Chidi decided, let’s spend our lives together. They got married, and had a son, and named him Calvin.</p><p>A day in their life, a couple of days before Christmas.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Chidi Anagonye/Eleanor Shellstrop, Janet (The Good Place) &amp; Jianyu Li | Jason Mendoza</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Yuletide Extravaganza [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1584574</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>33</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Calvin Anagonye-Shellstrop (and Hobbes)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I don't own The Good Place or Calvin and Hobbes, this is just my silly crossover idea. <br/>I have no plans to continue this piece, but if someone else is inspired to create in this 'verse, just message me. Thanks for reading! And Happy Holidays!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Somewhere in the vast loops of Jeremy Bearimy, there’s a timeline where Eleanor and Chidi decided, let’s spend our lives together. Not the unchanging kind of existence you get in the Good Place or the Bad Place, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>life. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Messy, bubbling-over, uncontrollable, sometimes very boring life on Earth. Pick up where they’d stopped when Janet had swooped the four humans into her Void. Was that too much to ask? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Judge said, considering all you’ve done for all of humanity present, past, and yet to come, no, that’s not too much to ask. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Michael said, well, it’ll be awfully lonely until you get back. I may pop in from time to time. You don’t mind an unexpected visitor, do you? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And so, Janet returned them to Earth-- Jason, Tahani, Chidi, and Eleanor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What happened next? Well...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chidi took a job teaching philosophy in Colby College, in Maine. Eleanor braved the New England winters to be with him. After a year, Eleanor proposed to Chidi, and he agreed with all his heart. A few more years passed. On the sixth anniversary of their return to Earth, they decided to try a new venture. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A year later, they met their son, Calvin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(The name “Calvin,” by the by, was Chidi’s decision. The name rang in his head the first time he laid eyes on his son. Eleanor agreed to it: the name was easy to spell and pronounce, not to mention that the original J. Calvin had changed the world with his ideas, and that made him a fitting namesake for the little man.) </span>
</p><p>
  <span>(Although it must be admitted: Calvin asked so many questions that “Socrates” would probably have been a better moniker.) </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At first, Calvin was little more than a bologna loaf with a big head and a lot of demands. But he grew.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In this particular picometre of Jeremy Bearimy, Calvin was six years old. He was a robust kid, never one to sit still when he could be </span>
  <em>
    <span>on the move </span>
  </em>
  <span>and </span>
  <em>
    <span>investigating</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He was the delight of his grandparents in Dakar, Senegal (he starred in video calls at least once a week, conducted in French… well, more like Franglais) and the delight/exasperation of his parents in Colby, Maine. He had light brown skin and brown, curly hair that spiked out in every direction at once and lightened to gold in the summertime. Like his mother, he was short for his age. Like his father, he had an active imagination. And everywhere Calvin went, he took a particular stained, mended, patched-up, much-adored stuffed tiger, named Hobbes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hobbes was folded in Calvin’s arms one bright winter morning, two days before Christmas. A good snowfall had cushioned the ground. Calvin set Hobbes on the snow and surveyed the front yard. The boy said “Well, Hobbes, we’ve got a mission.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mm?” said Hobbes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mom and Dad are hosting friends for Christmas. Someone called Uncle Jason and his wife, Janet, and Aunt Tahani is coming up from New York. That’s why Mom commissioned me to make snowmen for a welcome party.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sounds like fun,” said Hobbes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, but what does this mean for my art? If I accept a commission from a big-name patron, am I selling out?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess your mom counts as a patron…”  Hobbes mused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What if I subverted the commission? What if I horrified the guests? That’s what a real countercultural artist does. I should completely upend the status quo!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You might not get dessert,” Hobbes pointed out. “Besides, isn’t horrifying guests the kind of thing to put you on the naughty list?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Christmas! I almost forgot! Santa’s always watching. Hmph. Okay, Hobbes. For today, it’s neo-bourgeois holiday banality.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And dessert to go with it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, and dessert.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After two hours of pushing and piling snow around, Calvin and Hobbes stepped back to admire their latest effort. As they did, Dad’s car pulled into the driveway. Calvin didn’t notice just yet: he was absorbed in explaining to Hobbes that they had broken through post-structuralism and were now in the neo-noir-formalist stage, except it was snow, so it was neo-</span>
  <em>
    <span>blanc</span>
  </em>
  <span>-formalist. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that Calvin?” someone--a man-- called across the yard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is, I can assure you. And that must be Hobbes,” said a woman’s voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Calvin at once hid behind a sculpture. He heard Dad say to the unfamiliar man, “Jason, remember, Calvin doesn’t like to hug strangers.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No worries, bro,” Jason assured Dad. “Whoa! All these snow sculptures! Did you make these, little guy?” His eyes widened as he surveyed the yard. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes!” Calvin sprang out of hiding. “I made them and Hobbes helped. They’re a surprise for our guests!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, it’s surprising all right. Calvin, what are these?” Dad asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That one’s John Stuart Mill, that one’s Voltaire, that one’s Immanuel Kant…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why are they all </span>
  <em>
    <span>screaming</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Dad asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re fighting snow goons. See?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>dope</span>
  </em>
  <span>, man. You’re an artist,” said Jason. He knelt to be at Calvin’s level and held out a fist. “Sup, little man.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shyly, Calvin bumped his fist against Jason’s. “Hello.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m your Uncle Jason, and the last time I saw you you were </span>
  <em>
    <span>this </span>
  </em>
  <span>big,” Jason put a hand a couple of feet above the ground. “You remember me?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Calvin said, and Uncle Jason laughed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know you don’t remember me,” said the woman who had gotten out of the car. She wore a purple coat, and her eyes were very big and very dark. “Your brain was still shaping long-term memory at the last time we met, but now your cognitive development has skyrocketed! I’m Janet, by the way.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door to the house opened. “Get inside!” called Mom. “It’s too cold to stand out there yapping. You too, Calvin.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Calvin, Hobbes in arms, ran into the house ahead of the adults, while Dad and Uncle Jason huffed and puffed their way in with the luggage. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“D’you like my snow sculptures, Mom?” Calvin asked when he got in the door. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Very much.” Mom knelt to take off his overcoat and bobble-hat (and to give his forehead a little kiss). “Go into the kitchen and get toasty. I’ve got hot chocolate ready.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That set Calvin in a good mood right away. But he had to wait because when it came to hugs and kisses, Mom and Uncle Jason and Janet took </span>
  <em>
    <span>forever</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Calvin sat at the dining table and swung his legs back and forth and muttered mutinously to Hobbes until Mom finally filled up Calvin’s mug-- the small one with tigers painted on-- and set it before him. Then all was well with the world. Janet sat down beside Calvin, giving him ample personal space, so Calvin began to approve of her at once. Too many adults assumed that just because Calvin was little, he was a prime target for hugging, hair-tousling, or cheek-pinching. But Janet just gave Calvin a little smile, and she nodded to the tiger beside him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello,” she said to Hobbes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Calvin heard Hobbes say to her, “How do you do, madam, I’m Hobbes.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m Janet, and I’m glad to meet you,” She replied. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Calvin sat up and looked around. The parents and Uncle Jason were standing in the kitchen, talking with great energy. As usual, they showed no sign of having heard Hobbes in the least. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can see Hobbes properly?” Calvin asked Janet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have very good vision,” she informed him with a nod. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Calvin narrowed his eyes and gave Janet a good glare, the very keenest glare of which he was capable. Janet met his stare with equanimity. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally he sat back. “You’re not making fun of us? You really see him?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course she sees me,” said Hobbes, “we just </span>
  <em>
    <span>spoke. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Honestly, Calvin, where are your manners? She’s a lady.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The boy rolled his eyes, and Janet laughed. “Sometimes people, like, pretend that they see Hobbes,” Calvin explained, “but then they start baby-talking me and I hate it. I’m just being cautious.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Janet nodded in an understanding sort of way. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hobbes felt that the conversation was centering too much on Calvin. “How do you like Maine so far?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is thirty-five thousand, three hundred and eighty-five square miles of cold. I like this place very well,” Janet replied. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the time Mom, Dad, and Jason finally sat at the table, Calvin, Janet, and Hobbes were engaged in an animated conversation about Christmas in Senegal versus Christmas in Maine. As usual, Mom and Dad didn’t see or hear Hobbes properly, and Jason gave no sign either. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You mustn’t hold it against them, really, it’s not their fault,” Hobbes explained to Calvin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then why can you see him?” Calvin asked Janet. “You look as grown-up as any of them.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not human,” Janet told him, still smiling, “and one of my roles is to process information, i.e., everything. Humans have a remarkable ability to screen out reality, which is one reason why your parents don’t see Hobbes.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you’re not human, then what are you?” Calvin asked, loudly enough for the rest of the room to hear. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Calvin!” said Calvin’s Dad. He put a hand on his son’s shoulder. “That is very rude.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But it’s true, she just said!” Calvin protested. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I did tell him,” Janet confirmed. “He’s a very curious child.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure he’s old enough to know?” Calvin’s Mom said, sitting up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Know </span>
  <em>
    <span>what</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Calvin,” asked his Dad, “why do you think there’s anything unusual about Janet?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She can see Hobbes,” Calvin explained, “see him properly, so I wanted to know why.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jason put in, “Little man, listen. My girl Janet’s not a robot, but she kind of thinks like one. She’s not an angel, but she kind of acts like one. She’s a special piece of the universe, just like you are-- only you’re human, as far as I know.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Trust me, he is,” Mom replied in a rather affronted way, which made the grown-ups laugh, and Calvin demanded to know what was so funny. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why don’t you tell Uncle Jason and Janet about Hobbes?” Dad said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, but let me make it clear.” Calvin looked squarely at Janet. “I want to know more about what you are, </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span>, because I’m a scientist and I like to know these things.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m happy to answer any question, and I mean </span>
  <em>
    <span>any </span>
  </em>
  <span>question,” said Janet. “But first, would you tell us about Hobbes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She has good taste,” Hobbes purred, though of course only half the room heard him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well.” Calvin settled in and rubbed his hands together, just like his father did when he was about to launch into a lecture. “Mom says that Hobbes was a present from Aunt Tahani when I was a baby, but I’m pretty sure I caught him in my tiger trap with a tuna fish sandwich.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re very weak for tuna fish, we tigers,” Hobbes added.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I remember that day. I was washing my car,” Dad mused. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And then I went to Dad asking what to do with my fresh-caught tiger, and he started talking about zoos and enrichment and enclosures, and I spent the rest of the day making my room a place a tiger would be happy. But when I brought Mom and Dad up, they just wanted to know why I hadn’t cleaned my room. They didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>see </span>
  </em>
  <span>Hobbes properly, not like you do.” Calvin looked directly at Janet. “They’ve </span>
  <em>
    <span>never </span>
  </em>
  <span>seen him properly.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not their fault,” Janet told Calvin. “They’re only human.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you’re not, right? Can I become a superhuman like you?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not a superhuman,” she told him, “And no, it is impossible for you to become a Janet. I think you should be happy to be human. Your parents are human, and they changed the entire system of the afterlife.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The afterlife?” Calvin repeated, incredulous. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, bro! It’s like this, y’see.” Jason cracked his knuckles, readying himself for a long explanation. “It used to be that there was a Good Place and a Bad Place, and only the teeniest bit of a percentage got into the Good Place-- percentage of people, I mean-- everyone has just one life to try and be good, which is kind of whack if you think about it, because what’s eighty years of trying to be good, which is hella hard by the way, compared to a whole eternity of scorpions shoved up your--” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jason,” Mom warned him. And her motherly instincts were on the money: Calvin was fidgeting. He kicked his little legs under the chair. He was getting bored. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wanted to make a Socrates snowman drinking a cup of hemlock, but not </span>
  <em>
    <span>real </span>
  </em>
  <span>hemlock, just some cranberry juice,” Calvin said to his mother. “Can Hobbes and I go make a Socrates snowman while there’s still light out? Please?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mom and Dad looked at one another. She smiled; he nodded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go on, little man, but don’t forget your mittens,” Mom said to him. She and Jason scootched their chairs in to let Calvin slip by, with Hobbes clasped tight in his arms. A few minutes later, Calvin was pelting across the front yard, gathering up clumps of snow that would become the philosopher Socrates. He didn’t notice the lifted curtain in the kitchen window, or the adults watching him with contented smiles. No, Calvin was entirely focused on snowman-making. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As the sun was beginning to set, a taxi pulled up in front of the house, and a tall woman wrapped in a long peacoat stepped outside. Calvin hid behind a tree with Hobbes and watched as the black-haired woman took out her luggage, paid the driver, and regarded the house. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who is that elegant lady?” Hobbes asked. “She looks so familiar…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s too tall to be human,” said Calvin. “Do you think she’s an alien spy?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pish tosh, Calvin, a few extra inches don’t make one a Martian. I know her. I think that’s your Aunt Tahani!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aunt Tahani? Oh no, she’s spotted us!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The woman (who was indeed Aunt Tahani) had started up the walk, but saw a turquoise bobble disappear out of sight behind the tree. She halted, and tilted over to try and get a better look. She wasn’t going to risk stepping onto the snow, but she did call out, “Is that Calvin? Is that little Calvin?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not that little,” Calvin called back defensively. (Ignoring Hobbes who said “Yes, you are.”)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why, the last time I saw you, you were a babe in arms!” Tahani said, half to herself. “Will you come out so I can look at you?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m wise to your tricks, Martian impersonator!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Martian? Calvin, don’t you remember me? I’m the one who gave you Hobbes. She was a gift from my good friend Noor, the Queen of Jordan.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m a royal gift?” Hobbes asked, grinning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Quiet, Hobbes! I don’t know who Noor is.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, you are only six,” said Tahani.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Six and a half!” Calvin poked his head out behind the tree trunk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tahani smiled. (She couldn’t help it. The little boy looked like a stamp of Chidi, just smaller, rounder, and crankier.) “I was admiring your snowmen display,” she said. “It’s some kind of battlefield, isn’t it? It reminds me of ‘Night Watch,’ a famous painting by Rembrandt.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So…” Calvin leaned out a little more. “You’re not a Martian? You’re an artist?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am an appreciator of art,” Tahani said. “My sister is the artist… as are you, apparently.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you know Hobbes?” Calvin took Hobbes in hand and poked him out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look at that tiger! He’s been through lots of adventures, I can tell.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Calvin and Hobbes left the safety of the tree trunk and crunched through the snow to the walk. “We </span>
  <em>
    <span>have </span>
  </em>
  <span>been through lots of adventures,” Calvin said, holding Hobbes close, like a shield. “Hobbes is my best friend.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well.” Tahani leaned forward, and her long black hair swayed a little in the wind. “That makes me very happy to hear.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But I got him in a tiger trap.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As you say,” Tahani agreed magnanimously. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that Tahani?” Mom called from the front porch. “Come on in! You, too, Calvin, it’s dark out.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eleanor, darling!” Tahani called back. She strode up the walk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Calvin lingered, though. It was his nature that, when he was called inside, he wanted to stay out, no matter how biting the cold. He took one last look at his snowmen collection… a Rembrandt painting, huh? He’d have to do some research on that Rembrandt guy…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then a wave of hot air blasted across the front yard. Calvin instinctively grabbed Hobbes closer. A light danced in the sky. There was another blast of heat, like all of summer in twenty seconds. The carefully-crafted snowmen began to melt, and Calvin cried out in anguish. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“CALVIN!” Mom was running out the door towards him. She picked him and Hobbes up, and turned towards the door. Calvin’s eyes turned towards the sky, where he saw--</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A fire squid!” he cried out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Mom asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chidi was already halfway down the steps, to be with his family. Jason and Tahani stared at the sky, filling with light, a sort of furious aurora borealis.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Only Janet was calm. She held Jason’s hand, and put a hand on Tahani’s shoulder, and said, “Do not be afraid.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Calvin was the only one who paid attention to her. He glanced at Janet-- lined by yellow light, with her brown hair catching the kitchen lamps like a halo-- and decided on the spot, she was a guardian angel of some inscrutable kind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look!” said Hobbes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So Calvin looked. The sky was filled with the fire squid, which spun on a vertical axis and then-- vanished. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The world got very crowded, as suddenly Dad was holding Mom who was holding Calvin and Hobbes, and the adults were reassuring each other they were okay, but Calvin only had eyes for the end of the walk. A man had appeared there. He was tall, and white-haired, with spectacles and a dapper grey suit, complete with bow tie. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah… Surprise!” said the man. “Had some difficulty finding parking. Merry Christmas! And is that Calvin?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mom and Dad stared. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Michael</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Mom asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Calvin grinned. “Now </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Hobbes,” he said, with gusto, “is a </span>
  <em>
    <span>Martian</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p>
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